


Don't Stop Now

by savetheghost



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Jake and Bro/dirk are of similar age, No Smut, Other, Probably a lot of character death, Sadstuck, Zombies, hahahaha no, i am a horrible human who is here to make you all cry, i hope that sounds cocky cause itll make you wanna try and read this and be like bitch this aint sad, ill explain how everyone is related atsome other time and only if asked about, john can only have a nokia because hes horrible to cellphones, like a lot, probably
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-11-04
Updated: 2014-11-15
Packaged: 2018-02-24 01:37:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 5
Words: 5,272
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2563478
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/savetheghost/pseuds/savetheghost
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>You're white-knuckling the steering wheel and gritting your teeth while your passenger continues her assessment of how utterly screwed you both are now.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. ==> Be tense as hell

You were a little bit tense. 

It was only a slight stiffness of your shoulders, maybe. A bit of a twitch to your lip. 

Oh, who are you kidding?  
You're white-knuckling the steering wheel and gritting your teeth while your passenger continues her assessment of how utterly screwed you both are now. However, she's been able to keep relatively collected, clutching a pillow she evacuated from her house just before you caught up with her. 

In the back of the sedan, reminiscent of Nolan's Cadillac in it being more tank than car, slept her cat. Amongst the now shed fur was anything you could possibly grab from the cafeteria that resided within the college you had previously been attending. Duffle bags filled with all the nut-free candy you could break out of the vending machines, a plethora of once-frozen meats, and as much canned goods as you could possibly carry. That's added up with your co-pilots stores of booze and party mix, which you both agreed not to open while in such a confined space. Really. Peanut allergies suck ass. 

You slam on the horn over and over again, the traffic jam on the offramp occurring only because of one person stopped a little way ahead. Are they getting out of their car?

Oh fuck no. 

This is not cool.

Your passenger, one Rose Lalonde, has her eyes glued to the scene outside the back window. She's between chewing her lip and rechecking that all the doors are locked. The thirtieth time she does this, you thank your lucky stars that your father had been so adamant about you getting this one. 

You are so glad about it now. 

So glad. 

You notice traffic moving again, rather than hazarding a glance to the rearview mirror, you lock your eyes ahead. It appears whoever stopped their car is a goner. Someone with a soul decided to hijack the idle vehicle and take off. Everyone slams on the gas simultaneously, rocketing away from the writhing masses slowly looming over the edge of your trunk. You blocked out the sounds of the poor people in the cars behind you a while ago. You pray to god they had as strong a car as you have. 

It's already gotten you out of two jams since this started. 

You audibly thank your dad again. Rose glances at you as you rocket away from everything, weaving through the slower cars to get on a big open stretch of the highway. Your nerves are shot, and you've got a pounding in your temples from the adrenaline rush sitting still had given you, but you're still able to fly the car like a show plane. You're still sickened by the shy amount of cars safely driving on the road, but relieved as well...

That small part of your mind that never really could stay serious mumbles something about being a stunt driver, but you brush it away to take a glance out of the mirror. You seem to be safe, once again. At least for the moment.

"Have you heard from my brother yet?" She asks once the headlights are in need of being flicked on, and you dig yourself deeper into your chair. Nothing outside has seemed amiss for quite a few miles, so you allow the car to start slowing a bit. 

"He hasn't responded to my messages earlier, I don't think he's logged on yet today,"

She makes a discontented face, and brings her own phone out into the open. She was never one for communicating with someone over the phone. Face to Face, or over text. You think it's because it's easier to record things about the conversations those ways. Either by literally saving a chat, or picking up on gestures and facial expressions to put emphasis on particular parts in conversation. It's always mildly surprising and kind of weird to see her hold that little ancient flip phone up to her ear and wait for the line to pick up. 

Her volume is loud enough that you can hear that it's still ringing, and you're certain you both jump when it stops, and that overly familiar drawl greets you. 

_"Well this is a turn of events,"_ You're grateful when speakerphone is activated, rather than you needing to hover next to her shoulder and attempt to be a driver. _"what could possibly be screwed up enough to get the queen of awkward rings to call me this time?"_

You can practically hear Rose's eyes rolling in her head.

"David, are you aware of what is going on right now?" her tone was chopped of any formalities other than the quipped use of his lengthened name (a name which allegedly isn't even written on his birth certificate), her mind probably more ragged than yours at this point. She'd been trying to get ahold of him for hours. He's quiet a while. 

_"Is... Something up?"_ Apparently, he's totally clueless. You and Rose exchange a look of minor hope for the situation. Maybe this hasn't gotten out of the state?

"Have you seen the news lately?" Words normally reserved for an accusation of missing knowledge for something huge, but now offered as a literal query. She's probably wondering if it's something getting out to the rest of the country.

_"No, I mean, maybe? I don't know, the TV was on I guess?"_

"So there were no strange stories?"

_"Are we talking like huge ass incoming storm strange, or something more like a Florida news broadcast? Are we dealing emergency evacuation like you're warning me to get out, or did they finally come up with evidence for life on Mars? Have we finally-“_

"Dave," you interrupt, and he makes a weird confused sound. 

_"Dude? You're with Rose?"_ It just dawns on you that you told him you'd needed to be alone for a while, to get your grades up and focus on your coursework. 

"Shut up and listen. Do you remember when we were talking about the apocalypse?"

Dave was near silent as you both tried miserably to explain what was going on in New York. You could hear him typing away at a keyboard the entire time, but it wasn't until he called his brother into his room when you found out he was actually listening, and prodding the internet for backup info. 

You listen as he rattles off bits and pieces of what you told him, his phone apparently on some type of speaker, or maybe plugged into some headphones, because you could hear them both, though not clearly. His brother attempted to brush it off before you and Rose began speaking frantically. 

"No seriously it's not a joke!" You all but whine, eyes less on the road and more to the phone now. 

"You should take this with more weight than you are, we're in serious danger at the moment," 

You can hear him chuckle something, then a door shuts. 

_"Oh wow asshole, real nice."_ Dave mutters under his breath. _"I'll convince him later I guess... So where are you two holed up now? Rose's place?"_

"No, my home was forfeit pretty early."

"She came over to the college, but I guess this spreads pretty quick? We had to get outta dodge a little after she got there. Dorms were not built for that kind of protection." You shudder when you remember the sounds of shattering windows, the feet stomping as they tried to outrun something, the screams... 

You focus more on the road again.

_"Isn't your house like, in the middle of the woods?"_

"There is a large building very close by. A factory, I believe. Maybe a laboratory. Apparently, it has a very large staff. Well, once upon a time, it did."

She had yet to tell you that. Actually, she has yet to tell you anything about what she experienced before showing up at your dorm with a suitcase filled with vodka and rags. You have a bit of a hunch that she didn't bring the booze for a party. 

"We're currently cruising down the highway at," she leans over to check the speed of your tank, giving you a look when she reads, "Seventy-six miles per hour. John, you're going to burn off all the fuel at this speed."

_"So you're stuck in a little car now?"_

"Well my tank has gotten us out of two jams already," you grumble, patting the steering wheel lovingly. "It's the safest place we've been since this whole thing started."

"He does have a point. It appears this vehicle was remastered by quite the hagridden fellow. It truly is a piece of machinery to be reckoned with."

_"What's that mean?"_

"It means it can't be stopped by people, Dave." Rose, always putting things so delicately. You try not to think about what you've had to do as of late. It's hard enough as it is. 

_"Well shit."_ his constant keyboard clicking pauses. _"Where are you planning on going?"_

"Well..." Rose bites at her lip again.

_"Say no more, I'll start the old housemaid routine. Drive slowly, I've got a carpet of Micky D's wrappers, and it's gonna be a while."_

You grin slightly, relaxing your grip on the steering wheel. Leave it to him to be so accepting of the situation. You both counted on it, after deciding you wanted to get as away from this entire state as you thought possible. Dave's house was the first place you thought of going, mostly for the fact that you'd both really like to meet up with your friends and weather this out together. "Thanks, Dave."

"We still haven't gotten out of state, you'll have plenty of time."

_"Uh-oh, you're not out of there yet?"_

Your grin drops. "What's with the uh-oh?"

_"Checkpoints, man,"_

"Checkpoints?" Rose's eyebrows scrunch together for only a brief moment before she goes grim. "Oh dear..." 

You're confused. You state this out loud. It went something like, "I'm confused."

_"The government is apparently taking action,"_ states the voice on the phone. _"Well, some action. They've got New York and Maine both quarantined, military posts everywhere around the boarders, they're not letting anyone through."_

"Fuck," Your passenger mutters, much more calmly than an average person should in your current predicament. Your own reaction feels much more normal than hers, which is to slam on your breaks on the thin, deserted dirt road you're currently traveling. You'd pulled off the highway once you hit the clutter of traffic, breaking off at an exit before you got boxed in.

"What?!" you pull the phone from Rose's grasp, hitting speakerphone again and hissing into the receiver. "Dave, what the hell do you mean they're not letting people through?"

_"I mean exactly that, man, there's like armies of people trying to break through but these posts aren't letting anyone out,"_ with the phone to your ear, you can hear more background noise, among the sounds of a fan whirring and Dave's ceaseless typing, you can hear what sounds like screaming and yelling. _"I'm watching these videos, it's seriously fucked up, they're not even letting kids through."_

Rose stares at you quietly while you try to breathe. 

Okay. 

So you're probably even more fucked than you originally thought. 

What do you do?

"Is there any way we can get past the checkpoints?"

_"If you're going by car, hell no. Someone started up a blog listing all these roads that end in military confrontation. They keep updating this map with dots, the border on the U.S. side is nearly entirely red flags."_

"Are there any holes towards Pennsylvania?"

_"If you're hiking, maybe? You'd have to lose your car."_ You hear him pounding away on his keyboard. _"Your best bet is shooting up through toward Ottawa, though, there are people saying that the Canadians are letting people through if they're showing no signs of illness. I wouldn't try Pennsylvania, honestly, and definitely don't touch Maine. Looks like they're hitting it harder than you guys."_ More typing, then the sound of a door getting slammed open. You half recognize the voice of Dave's brother again, though the words he's saying are muffled. He sounds almost... panicked. 

_"Shit man, I need to get out of here for a minute, I'll call when I get back,"_ His voice nearly cracks before he hangs up abruptly, before you can worriedly ask what's happened. You pull the phone away from your ear, looking down at the blinking length of the call. 

"What's happened?" Rose questions quietly, and you hand her phone back to her. 

"I think Bro believes Dave..."

She seems more distraught by this, clutching onto her pillow. 

"Well, Bro's a badass, right? He'll probably end up going zombie hunter after we all kick it..." Your joke is both unappreciated and actually kind of tasteless. You get the car to lurch forward again, setting your sights for America's border now, rather than the Pennsylvanian border that you had been so near. 

It takes you down the narrow road for another hour, undisturbed and quietly listening to the radio as news slowly seeps through the scattered songs and static. You can actually see one of the checkpoints Dave had mentioned not too far off, a makeshift barricade of cars and large lights up ahead. You can hear a pretty big commotion up there, too. You turn off the stretch that'll take you to the post, and drive another twenty minutes down.

Well, until the car slows back down to another stop. 

"We're out of gas," your companion points out, her breath shuddering. Behind you, you hear the sound of a feline rising from a nearly undisturbed rest. You curse. Not silently. Not quietly. 

You curse loudly, prolonged and creative, slamming your palms into the steering wheel and shaking. 

"John," a hand is placed on your shoulder gently after you slammed you forehead into the wheel, and you lean your head to look at her. 

She's just as scared as you are. 

She doesn't want to do it just as much as you don't.

She pulls her ancient little flip phone up, and dials her brother's again.

"Dave, please do not call us, we have to get out of the car, and remaining as silent as possible is our top priority," her voice is shaking after she only reaches his voicemail, apparently he's still stuck with whatever pulled him away earlier, and her words are fast. 

"If you don't hear from us, just assume what you will, but know that, despite all exterior signs, I love you dearly as a brother." she glances at you, silently asking, and you take the phone from her hand. You try to keep your voice even. 

"We'll be okay, man, we'll call you when we're able to, and you can update us on your status then... Just trust us, alright? And I guess if what Rose said becomes a thing that really happens..." you let a shuddery breath out, Rose's comforting hand back on your shoulder. 

"Well, I know you've been hitting rough patches lately, but you're really as cool as you thought you were back when we were thirteen, okay? I'm sorry I never made it down there, and we never got to see each other face to face, but you're still absolutely my best bro. But, hey, I'll see you when we get out of our mess, alright?" 

You close the phone and give it to Rose. She turns the device off, tucking it away in one of the bags you both are now dragging to the front. the cat is coaxed into his travel bag, backpacks are strapped onto backs, and without further delay, you leave the safety of your car-turned-tank. 

It's a bitter farewell to the bloodstained sedan, but you soon leave it and the safety behind its' locked doors far behind you. 

You have little choice but to head towards that checkpoint. So that is where you go. 

And so you walk. 

and walk. 

and walk some more. 

Rose's determination to not stop at all keeps you going, despite your utter lack of normal exercise lately and the slowly growing ache in your feet. You both remain silent, fearing being heard by someone or something lurking out past your short range of vision. The night fell fast, hours ago, the dark now hours old. You didn't even realize you had come upon the checkpoint until the shapes of the cars swam out of the thick shadow. 

Suddenly you're gripped by horrid apprehension. 

The lights are off, and theres nearly no sound here, other than your shallow breathing and Rose's footsteps as she comes up to stand beside you. 

But...

She's already standing beside you...

On the other side. 

Then there's the quiet hiss of air escaping an open mouth, and a rancid scent. 

You glance at the person to you left, eyes greeted with the face of your friend, who is staring wide eyed past your shoulder. She realizes you're staring and mouths, "Do not move."

Your body shakes, and you try your best to keep your knees from collapsing. 

You don't know what to do. 

She doesn't know what to do. 

You hear gurgling behind you.


	2. ==> Please record your message after the beep

"Please record your message after the beep,"

_**Beep!** _

_"Hey, I just got Rose's message, and what the fuck man? What the fuck. That message. No, man. Fuck that. You'd better call me ASAP you asshole."_

"Please record your message after the beep,"

_**Beep!** _

_"John it's been five minutes and you haven't called back. Bro just went and took apart half our furniture to stick by the door in case we need to block it off. And by furniture I mean my desks. And by desks I mean cinder blocks. You get the drift. We're gonna get down to the store and stock up on canned bullshit and microwave dinners, average apocalypse fare, you know. Call me back like ASAP. Really. Preferably just S."_

"Please record your message after the beep,"

_**Beep!** _

_"I'm at the store and like theres a goddamn mob, yo. Can you hear it? I'd send a pic but your lame ass Nokia doesn't even receive images. How do you survive with that piece of shit? I guess you needed something sturdy enough to be sent out the window, but shit man. Just get a lifeproof case and a fucking iPhone. Just do it. Call me ASAP. I'm gonna keep saying that till it sounds as lame as your dumb phone. Which will probably be never because the lameness of your phone transcends the boundaries of lameness."_

"Please record your message after the beep,"

_**Beep!** _

_"You wanna know what's not lame? My bro's knowledge of my culinary preferences. That's pretty un-lame. Wanna know what's more un-lame? You not being dead. That's pretty fuckin' un-lame. So try, for once in your life, to be a little less lame, alright? Call me back ASAP. That's not lame either, suck it."_

"Please record your message after the beep,"

_**Beep!** _

_"Pick up your goddamn phone,"_

"Please record your message after the beep,"

_**Beep!** _

_"John please pick up,"_

"Please record your message after the beep,"

_**Beep!** _

_"It's been six hours and I don't know what to do."_


	3. ==> Don't Turn Around

You duck your head as Rose emits some kind of primal howl, her bag swinging as hard as physics will allow, and you hear a loud crack behind you, then a thump.

You're crouched down with your hands over your head. 

You can feel something wet on your neck.

You're shaking. 

"John, come on," she screams, grabbing your wrist and yanking you up. She stares at you for just a fraction of a moment, her expressions swallowed by a look of fear as she glances over your shoulder yet again. 

She moves this time, dragging you with her in a mad dash towards the makeshift fencing. Your brain is screaming at you not to turn around, don't turn around, god damn it don't look back Egbert you're gonna regret it so much it'll be like being pushed over by a renegade hero in a filthy wife beater and toppling over only to make your landing on an exposed pipe. It just won't end well.

In your hysterical state you actually grin at the fact that, even in this situation, you can still make some kind of loose, nonsensical reference to that damn movie. You haven't even watched it since you were sixteen. It feels like ages ago. 

You've nearly made it to the fence, your mind somehow equating it to immediate safety, before an ear shattering sound breaks though the near silence. You hear Rose hiss as she stutters to a stop, her balance failing, your wrist still clamped in her vice grip. 

You both take the plunge, somewhere you hear Jaspers wailing, then another bang. 

A gunshot. 

You're torn between hope and horror as you try to scramble back to your feet, but something grapples on to your shoulders and armpits, and suddenly you're wrenched away from your friend. 

You can hear that gurgling sound behind you again, and there are nails digging into your back and sides. 

You scream out, you hear Rose calling for you. 

You feel tears streaming down your face, your clothes are giving under the claws of whatever has you, biting away at skin. 

**Bang!  
Bang Bang!**

The hands retract and you fall to the ground, hard. Something hot grazes your shoulder, but you're too stunned to think about the pain it caused. You look past the barrel of the rifle nearly stuck up your nose to stare at the figure looming over you.

"Jake?"


	4. ==> Regale Relative with Familial Bullshit

"Alright, kid, this'll be a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity,"

"Bro, we've done this before."

"Nah, not like this."

You shift uncomfortably on your half of the bench seat, leaning against the door. The engine of the pickup is skipping again, and the brakes squeal as you both slow into a turn. Some mechanical part of your brain leans up and turns the AC down as far as it can go. In the same movement, you turn and pull the back window open. Your bro shuts the AC off wordlessly. 

"Well, I'll be back," you grunt as you pull yourself through to the bed, rolling into a crouch as the vehicle comes to a stop. 

_"Hello, welcome to McDonalds, what may I get you?"_

"I need a minute," you shift yourself to a better position. Your bro's hand pops out of the window with the list. You shift your shades for a moment as you skim it. "Jesus, man, are you serious? I have to spout all this bullshit?"

"Order lil' man. This is our last hurrah at this place."

You glance at that small portion of his face visible in the rearview. You look at him, he looks at you. 

"Yeah, Okay, listen up here I've got a big list. Now I don't want drinks with any of this, fries with half of everything I'm about to say. I'm gonna need twelve Big Macs, fourteen ten piece nuggets, Eight quarter pounders without cheese, six with, fifteen crispy chicken wraps, Uh, two barbecue ranch burgers, six double cheeseburgers, four double quarter pounders with cheese, nine premium crispy chicken bacon clubhouse sandwiches, and two Oreo McFlurries." 

_"Is this a serious order?"_

"Serious as a heart-attack, ma'am." 

You listen as she prattles off the immense order, then gives you an estimate on how long it'll take to get it to you. You don't remember exactly what you said to confirm that this was all proper, and also a real order. You crawl back into the cab as the car pulls forward and into a parking space, and you're fishing your cell out of your back pocket. 

"Are you seriously going to leave another message?" Your bro isn't looking at you. You aren't looking at him. You don't say anything, you just dial the phone, and get out of the car. 

"I'll be in the bathroom."

_ "Please leave a message after the beep," _

**Beep!**


	5. Chapter 5

"Please leave a message after the beep,"

**Beep!**

_"John, this is your father speaking. I realize you have quite the test to attend to right now, and I'm proud you've taken such an aggressive approach to your current grade predicament, but the news on the television has been a bit... Unsettling. Hopefully you can call home soon, and we can discuss the issue. Honestly, at this point, I wish you had taken the offer down in Houston... At any rate, please be safe. I love you, call soon."_

"Jake, why the hell are you in New York?"

"I docked here for my hiking trip about a week ago," He innocently lowers his gun from your face. "Why in the name of George are you here, John? I thought you were over in Washington."

"College," he offers out a stiff hand for you to pull yourself up with, which you can't actually do due to the roaring pains in your sides and shoulders. Rose is to you in just a few seconds to offer more assistance.

"John, you're injured," she points out, and Jake puts more effort into not helping you up in the most painful ways possible. 

When you're standing, Jake thoroughly inspects all of the marks. 

"Just scratches, doesn't look like any biting... Oh golly gosh damn it, I got your arm, wow that is a nasty mark..." He ushers you and Rose towards what looks to be a hastily constructed shack, apparently it housed whoever wasn't keeping watch on the border. You have no idea where those people could be, considering that when Jake rammed the door in, the place was deserted. You try not to whine or groan too much in agony while you're stuck on a cot. You fail. 

"I don't think we've been properly introduced," You hear Rose state in a forcefully collected and calmed voice. She soon flips on an electric lantern you hadn't known she brought. "I'm Rose Lalonde."

"Ah, Roxy's young sister?"

"The one and only. You're Jade's cousin, correct?"

"Second cousin! It wouldn't have been this that tipped you off, would it?" He stamps the butt of the rifle to the ground softly.

Their ability to hold casual conversation in this situation is heartening. Of course, you'd already been through some eerily similar shit all day long. Had they been so badly injured, they'd probably be less inclined to keep their cool. Or more inclined. Really, you're the only one who's bad at keeping in check, probably. 

But they're calm and you feel like screaming a little less because of it. Probably. Or you're just really dizzy and the adrenaline kicked your ass. You're not too sure. You close your eyes and listen to them talk while they scramble about. There are other sounds, too. Tearing fabric, sloshing liquids. You soon figure out that the fabric is clothing and the liquids are vodka and that it really burns when alcoholic beverages are poured over open gun wounds. 

You do not resist the urge to scream. 

Loudly.

Jake then insists he has to exit the shack and watch out for anything that could've been alerted to your presence due to that sound. 

You inform Rose that alcoholic beverages really burn when poured over open gun wounds. She becomes quiet. 

There are two more gun shots. 

Jake returns, cursing under his breath about how he wished he didn't have to use such a noisy long-ranged weapon. 

"Are you alright, John? Still burning?" he questions, illuminated for your convenience by Rose's lantern.

"Not as bad?" you manage to hiss out while your companion helps you sit up in order to dress your midsection. "Are our bags still out there?"

Jake drops something that sounds similar to a duffle bag full of candy bars. "I grabbed most of it. Though, you have an empty animal carrier?"

Rose shifts.

"Jaspers isn't in there?" You feel worried for the feline. He wasn't so bad. 

"He isn't declawed, he'll be fine." Rose mutters. That statement was definitely for her own benefit, and she ties your bandages off just a bit too tight. You hold in your comments and your loud cursing. 

You lie there in silence for a while, only breathing. You doze in and out, occasionally hearing dialog between your friend and relative. You aren't quite certain you know how much time has passed when you hear Rose and Jake quietly arguing over something. Quietly. 

Jake seems distraught. Perhaps even torn. 

"We need to keep moving," Your friend says decisively after a moment of silence. "Will you be able to move, John?"

"Yeah, I'll be alright," You don't think she knew you'd been dozing. You exhale, forcing yourself off of the cot with the air leaving your lungs. There's a lot of pain pretty much throughout your entire body, but you think you can probably handle it. Maybe. Possibly. You may need a swig of that vodka. 

"I can hold your things, at least for a tick," Jake states, almost defeated in tone, already picking your bags back up. "I won't be able to stick around long, I've got a place to be and it'd be wise of you both not to see it." He grabs his gun at that, then your duffle bag. He seems to pick up on the crinkling of candy wrappers this time. "I say, there wouldn't happen to be, um, a few candy bars in this duffle, would there?"

"Go ahead, there's no peanuts, just eat one." You wave him on. The Eg-Har-Crock-lish bloodline is wrought with tree nut allergies. 

His lantern illuminated face grins widely as he crouches momentarily to pick one out. "Can't blame a chap for wanting some good old chocolate for his last meal, right?"

Both you and Rose stare at him while he awkwardly chuckles into his Hershey's. He notices a little too late.

"I just said something off, didn't I?"

You both go to open your mouth, but a vaguely familiar song by iconic rap artist Eminem begins to play. You can't put your finger on which, but you clearly recognize it as a ringtone. It plays out until the ringer ends, and a quiet, almost remorseful beep sounds out into the night. The call has been missed. 

Jake pulls his phone from his vest pocket (the last pocket he got to while he patted himself down the duration of the ringer) and looks down at it, cursing, cursing loudly, then holds it up to his ear. His entire demeanor shifts, suddenly tense. His volume, however, has been turned up to what you think is the maximum. He probably doesn't realize this. He's always been hard of hearing. 

_"You've just reached the cellular of Jake English, who is speaking, and is also away. Please leave a message after the tone, and I'll get back in a wink!"_

**Beep!**

_"Jake, it's Dirk, you're still in the upper states, right? I know Dave's got some of his buddies coming down from NY, too, maybe you could nab them on your way. Seems some bad shit's going down, but I think you know that. The kid's been flipping the fuck out for hours, totally unbecoming. He's in the McDonald's bathroom sending the Egbert kid another voicemail. But hey, I'd be flipping the fuck out if I were in his position. Which I'm praying to god isn't the case. This is me. And my gay ass. Praying. Listen; Oh lord, please show my boyfriend the way, let him not get attacked by goddamn zombies, and make sure his goddamn gun is loaded. Jake, please keep the fucking thing loaded. Okay, call me ASAP, love you, Strider out."_


End file.
